The Pet Dove 



BY 

John Rea 



A Children's Play in Four Acts 




Published by 
WHITAKER & RAY-WIGGIN CO. 



Price 25 Gents 



THE PET DOVE 



BY 

JOHN REA 

Author of "A Captive Maiden in Damascus" 



A Children's Play in Four Acts 

(With Music for Songs Arranged by Author) 



Copyrig-ht 1915 
WHITAKER & RAY-WIGGIN CO. 




SAN FRANCISCO 

WHITAKER & RAY-WIGGTN CO. 

1915 






CI.D 41178 



JUN2I 1915 



THE PET DOVE 



THE STORY 



Philip, an odd little boy irom Bamotli-Gilead, and his 
v/idowed mother, Tirzah, are sojourning in Bethlehem 
about the time of the visit of the Wise Men. The boy is 
very unhappy because certain personal peculiarities seem 
to make ihim unacceptable to the other boys of the viL 
lag-e; but, at his mother's urgent plea, he makes another 
effort to get upon friendly terms with them. 

Gaspar, one of the Wise Men, finds an opportunity to 
lend a helping hand and then, with the aid of some lit- 
tle shepherdesses, a few angels, a little music and magic 
and a Pet Dove belonging to one of the boys, Philip gains 
his heart's desire to become a real boy, and all ends 
happily. 



THE PET DOVE 



Persons 

Gaspar — One of the Magi. A large man witli a long white 
beard. 

Samuel and David— Boys of Bethlehem, about 14 and 
12 years. 

Philip— An odd little fellow from Ramoth-Gilead, 12 years 
and small. 

Tirzah — Philip's widowed mother. 

Tabitha — A young neighbor of Tirzah. 

Zillah, Hannah, Naamah, Beulah, Miriam and Esther- 
Little shepherdesses of Bethlehem. 

Ruth— A little pet dove belonging to Samuel. 

Incidental Persons 

In Act 2— The two other Magi. 

In Act 3— A quartet of ladies' voices. 

In Act 4 — A woman to appear at a doorway. 

Place— Bethlehem. Time— The arrival of the Magi.. 

Help Needed 

A superintendent of rehearsals. 

A musician to manage the vocal work. 

An electrician and a stage manager. 

Several ladies to assist the girls in changing costumes. 

Costumes* 

The costumes in this play need only be of the simplest 
forms of present day apparel in the Orient; that of boys 
and of girls being almost identical, the girls wearing orna- 
ments on their heads, arms and ankles; the boys quite 
plain. All should either wear sandals or go barefoot. No 
hosiery. 

The angels should have long, drooping wings; white, 
flowing robes, arms bare and no ornaments. 

'Some little make-up, judiciously used, may add to the 
illusion. 



THE PET DOVE 



Act. 1 

(The auditorium dark. On the stage the interior of 
Tirzah's cottage in Bethlehem, very poor and plain. Tir- 
zah sitting alone on an ottoman, mending a little boy's 
Jacket; looking up and listening, betimes, as if anxious. 
A rap at the door.) 

TIRZAH— Com.e in! (Tabitha enters leading Philip by 
the hand; the boy scantily clothed, barefoot, scared.) 

TABITHA— Is this your little boy? He says he's gone 
and lost himself and I've been trotting him round among 
the neighbors trying to And the right mother for him. 

(Ph. runs to Tirzah, embraces her, then sits on floor.) 

TABITHA — (After watching them a moment). Well, 
from the way things look I guess you're it all right. 

TIRZAH— Oh yes. Yes. Thank you, thank you good 
neighbor. The Lord reward you. 

TABITHA— Oh, that's all right. I'm glad he's found 
you. Good day. Goodbye, little boy. Don't you go and 
lose yourself again without letting me know. 

(Tab, retires, smiling, shaking flnger at Philip.) 

PHILIP— (Ardently) Oh mother, I'm so glad to be here! 
You don't know how glad I am. 

TIRZAH — And I'm pleased to have my little boy with 
me again. But you need not have been frightened. Among 
such kindly people you would be safe anywhere you 
know. I haven't been worrying about you. (Cheerily.) 
And so you've been out playing with the other boys this 
afternoon, and had a real good time? 

PHILIP— (.Slowly and hanging his head.) W^ll, I 
tried to make friends with some of them, but they spoke 
cross and ran away from me. (A pause, then turning to 
her, looking up, eagerly,) Is it because we are poor and 
strangers here, mother? Or is it because there is some- 
thing the matter with me, so that I'm not like other boys? 
They all laugh at me, and I can't help it. You know 
that, mother. 



6 THE PET DOVE 

TIRZAH — (Consolingly.) Try not to mind them, sonny. 
They will know you better by and by. Maybe you only 
imagined they meant to be rude. You are only mother's 
little man now, but by and by you will grow up and be 
my great big Philip, "a lover of horses"! Won't that be 
fine? 

PHILIP— (Plaintively.) Oh, I don't believe I want to 
grow up, mother. I only want to be like you. And I 
don't like to live here in Bethlehem. Do you? It's so 
lonely. I'd rather go back to dear old Ramoth-Gilead 
where everything was so far and quiet and solitary; and 
no rude boys to bother. 

TIRZAH— (Petting him.) I know, sonny. So would I, 
if all were well with my little boy. You know we came 
over Jordan because I wanted to make a little offering in 
the Temple, for fear that in some way your father or I 
had sinned. And then I wanted to have you bathe in 
the bubbling pool of Bethesda,. But nothing seemed to 
help; so we came here to live in seclusion and rest. Some 
day, when God is more gracious, we will go back to dear 
old Ramoth-Gilead and be happy, just you and I. 

(Philip looks up, smiling and satisfied; then lovingly 
strokes his mother's hair and speaks softly.) 

PHILIP— Why didn't they call you Julia, mother, you 
have such "soft and tender hair"; or Rhoda, "a wild rose"; 
or Se-rah, "the morning star"? 

TIRZAH— (Fondling the little boy.) And why didn't 
I call my little son Ar-non, my "sunlight," or Zith-ai, my 
"shadow," for you are both to me, or, (slowly) even Shen-ir, 
"the light that sleeps"? 

PHILIP— (Softly, deprecatingly). No, mother. No! Those 
are not names for boys. Only holy Angels have names 
like those. (With hesitation.) May I ask you a question, 
mother? 

TIRZAH— Yes, my son, what is it? 

PHILIP — (Slowly). If the names of the Angels were all 
brought over from Babylon how is it they don't under- 
stand the Chaldean language? I've been worrying over 
that all day. 

TIRZAH— (Aside.) My poor little boy! 



ACT I 7 

PHILIP — Did you ever see an Angel, mother? (No re- 
sponse.) How I would love to see La-i-lah, the "angel of 
dreams"; or Shed-eur, the "field of light"; or Pa-ran, the 
"angel of beauty." (Looking up brightly.) I know what 
angels live on, mother. They live on Manna and the 
beams of the Divine Glory. And they keep busy, too. I 
know of one who is a weaver. And I once dreamed I saw 
him weaving crowns for God out of the prayers the other 
angels carried up to heaven. 

But I didn't see ours there. Do you suppose, maybe, a 
careless angel lost them on the way up? 

But, do you know, mother, somehow these things don't 
seem so real and true to me over here as when I sat on 
the mountain side away over in Ramoth-Gilead looking 
at the sunset across the valley of Jordan. I used to know 
everything by its name. I called the lovely moonlight 
Nem-u-el, it looked so much like "the sleeping of God." 
Don't you think that's a pretty name for it, mother? 
(Ardently.) What's the trouble here? Can't you tell me? 

I catch you looking at me so strangely sometimes; and 
then you hug me so tight. 

It seems as though you were afraid that, maybe, while 
you weren't looking, a big hand might steal out of the 
shadows and touch me so that I should wither; or that, 
maybe, something like a soft, bright mist might fall all 
around me and when it faded away I shouldn't be there 
any more. I often feel that way. Is that it, mother dear? 

TIRZAH— (Hiding her face and rocking back and 
forth.) Oh, Philip, Philip, you will break my heart if you 
talk that way. I can't answer you. No, no, my son. Don't 
think about such things. Go out once again. Go out 
among the little fellows in their play. Maybe they will 
be more gentle with you after .awhile. You are all I have 
in the world. Try once more. Play real hard. Be a real 
boy. 

PHILIP — (Rising, speaking cheerfully) All right, 
mother dear. I'll try again, and maybe if I try real hard 
I may get to be your true Philip, riding over the hills on 
a big horse. (Starts away, then pauses and asks in dis- 
appointed tone.) But aren't you coming along this time, 
mother? 



8 THE PET DOVE 

TIRZAH — No, sonny. You will get on better without 
me. I shadow you too much. Go and play, that's a dear, 
good little son. Don't go too far away. I'll be watching 
for you while I'm mending your jacket. 

PHILIP — Well then; all right. Goodbye, mother dear. 
If I get lost again somebody will bring me back, I know. 
There are lots of kind people in the world, aren't there. 
Goodbye, mother! 

PHILIP — I'm so glad you aren't a boy. 

(Looks back longingly as he goes out, waves his hand; 
then comes back, lays his hand on her shoulder and mur- 
murs:) 

(Philip goes out reluctantly. Tirzah looks after him; 
sighs, shakes her head sadly; wipes away a tear; then 
goes on mending the little jacket.) 

CURTAIN 




THE PET DOVE 



Act 2 



(The same afternoon. A cottage doorway seen at one 
side of the stage, with a light above it. For a central 
background the wall of the town. Samuel and David 
Ivinff lazily in the sun. David playing with his harp; 
Samuel lying on his back, fondling his pet dove which 
he carries in the flap of his shirt. Suddenly they look up 
and watch the approach of some one not yet in sight of 
the audience.) 

SAMUEL— Well, what a queer looking lot of people. Do 
you see them, David? Look, they are coming this way 
too. 

DAVID— They can't be Jews, 'cause they've got camels to 
ride on. 

SAMUEL— I wonder why they don't go up to the inn? 

DAVID— Well, they'd better not, for the inn is full and 
has been for two or three weeks. I've been there and I 
know. There's an awful crowd there now. 

SAMUEL— I wonder where they came from, and if 
they're going to stay long. 

(The caravan of the Magi has halted not far away. Boys 
watch v/ith interest, only now and then touching their 
playthings.) 

DAVID— It would be lots of fun to go down some day 
and see their camp, wouldn't it? 

SAMUEI^ni go with you any time you say. We 
needn't go close up you know; and I haven't seen any 
dog; have you? 

(As they are watching the Magi, Philip slowly wanders 
near, a pitiful little creature, continually looking about 
him as if in fear.) 

DAVID— Aw! Here comes that silly Philip again! We 
can't go anywhere without having him tag after us. I'm 
just sick of it. 

SAMUEI^Now Philip, you just go back where you 
came from! We don't want you with us. What are you 
looking for? 

PHILIP— (Timidly.) I, I thought, maybe, I might find 
somebody down here to play with. 

iSAMUEL— (Harshly.) Oh yes. You're always thinking 
something, but it's only because you're silly, that's all. 



10 THE PET DOVE 

PHILIP — I'm lonesome, and I'm cold too; real cold. 
DAVID— Well, that's not our fault, is it? 

SAMUEI^-Why didn't you put on your coat; you knew 
it was cold, didn't you? 

PHILIP — I couldn't, 'cause mother is mending it for 
me. (To Samuel.) 0-h, what a pretty bird you've got! I 
never saw anything so— (putting out his hand, as if to 
touch it.) 

SAMUEL— Aw! Keep your hands away! She might bite 
you. She gets awful savage sometimes. 

PHILIP — Oh, I didn't know. I never had a live bird in 
my hand and I just thought I'd like to see how they feel. 

SAMUEL — Well, just go on home now, Philip, we're 
busy. 

PHILIP— I haven't any home here. I wish you boys 
would let me stay and play with you a little bit. 

DAVID— No. You'd better run along. It's getting dark, 
and I see three strange men down yonder. Hurry up. 
(Acts as if scared.) 

(Philip looks about timidly, then scurries off out of 
sight while the boys fasten their eyes on the three men, 
who have left the tent and now pass slowly across the 
front of the stage, toward the doorway of the cottage 
opposite.) 

SAMUEL — I wonder what they're up to now? 

DAVID — Each of them has a bundle. Where do you 
suppose they're going? 

SAMUEI^-And what are they all looking at? They 
thinly they see something, that's sure, and they're walk- 
ing straight toward it. I see them looking at something. 
(Boys gaze same way.) 

DAVID — I believe I see what it is! 

SAMUEI^Do you? Where? 

DAVID — (Pointing) Over yonder. Don't you see a light, 
high up over that little house? It looks like a star. I 
wonder if it really is one? 

SAMUEL— Why, that's where those poor folks from 
up country are staying. 



ACT II 11 

DAVID— I know. The place where they've got the baby; 
the one that was born in the stable, don't you remember? 

SAMUEL— Yes. But look. They're going in. 

(Magi rap at cottage door; enter, and light disappears.) 

DAA^D- And what's gone with that star? Well, if that 
isn't the greatest. Say, Samuel, I feel sort of queer. I'm 
about half scared to stay here. My folks will wonder 
what's keeping me. Come on, let's go. 

SAMUEL— Hold on a minute 'till I put my bird in a 
good warm place. (Samuel puts the dove in his shirt flap. 
Boys start away. A voice heard not far off. Philip reap- 
pears.) 

PHILIP— Oh, boys! Wait for me, won't you? Please 
wait for me! I can't find my way home alone. 
(Boys hurry off without replying.) 

PHILIP— They might have waited for me just a minute. 
I don't mean any harm. I wouldn't bother them. Now 
I can't get home, and I'll have to wait until somebody 
comes along (Sits down, despairingly.) 

I wish somebody cared for me. I'm awful lonely! 

(Just here the shepherdesses appear, with their crooks 
and harps and pipes, dancing about and chattering m 
true girl fashion. Suddenly they come upon Philip, alone 
and disconsolate. They gather round him, Beulah be- 
hind the others.) 

ZILLAH— Well, I declare, what's this? What are you 
doing here, little boy? What's the matter, are you sick, 
or lost, or,— what? 

PHILIP— I'm waiting 'till somebody comes along who 
will be kind to me and show me how I can get home. 

HANNAH— Where do you live? We are going into 
town pretty soon. 

PHILIP— Oh, are you? Then, please may I go with you? 

N A AM AH— (Aside.) Poor little lamb. I'm sorry for him, 
he looks so cold and pitiful. 

BEULAH— (Pushing in from behind the others.) Say, 
little boy, does your mother know you're out here? 



12 THE PET DOVE 

MIRIAM— Now don't start teasing, Beulah. You can't 
be happy unless you're poking fun at somebody. 

BEULAH— Well, isn't that all right? Doesn't the 
Good Book tell us there's a time to laugh? What's to 
hinder my thinking I've got there right now? (Laughs 
and points to Phil.) Look at it. 

MIRIAM— Yes, but in The Book the time to weep eomes 
first, and this looks more like it to me. 

PHILIP — Aren't you girls going into town now? 

ESTHER— No; we're going for our sheep first. 

PHILIP^Which way are you going? 

ESTHER— Down past that tent. 

PHILIP — Will you take me there and let me wait 'till 
you come back? Then you can take me home, maybe? 

ZILLAH — Yes, come right along. 

(Zilla'h takes Philip's hand and leads him to the door 
of the empty tent, where she leaves him; the girls go on 
their way, chattering and singing. Zillah looks back and 
waves a hand to the boy; then all disappear. Philip 
stands looking wistfully after them.) 

PHILIP — I wish I were a girl! 

CURTAIN 




THE PET DOVE 13 

Act 3 

(The next afternoon. Stage same at last scene. Gaspar 
sitting quietly in front of his tent, reading from a scroll. 
Samuel and David slowly edge their way, boy fashion, 
toward the place. Gaspar watches until they come quite 
near, then speaks quietly.) 

GASPAR — Come here, boys. I would like to see you. 
(Boys shyly draw near and make their salaam.) 

GASPAR — What are your names, boys? 

DAVID— My name's David. 

SAMUEI^And I am Samuel. 

GASPAR — Well, those are fine names. Ah, Samuel, my 
boy, what a pretty bird you have. Is it a pet? And 
what do you call it? 

SAMUEL— It's a little wild bird that I caught in a 
snare. It soon got very tame. Lots of boys have tame 
birds. 

GASPAR — I hope you are very kind to it. You know 
every wild bird is a sort of little brother or little sister 
to you; and if you keep it you become like a little father 
or older brother to it. 

SAMUEL — ^My birdie's a girl, and her name is Ruth; so 
then I suppose she's my little sister. One day when, I 
was carrying her off on a long trip what do you think 
happened? Guess. Why she laid a little egg right in my 
shirt. The cutest thing you ever saw. I've got it at home 
now and I'll show it to you some day, if you like. 

GASPAR— (Laughing) Well now! That's delightful. 
Have little Jewish boys many amusements as fine as that? 

DAVID— Oh, no, not very. We play with slings and 
arrows and balls and music and pet birds — ^but girls— 
they wear all sorts of silly, tinkling things on their legs 
and arms. 

SAMUEL — (Boastfully.) My sister wears great big rings 
in her ears! My auntie gave them to her and she's awful 
proud of them. 



14 THE PET DOVE 

GASPAR— We have a great many little boys over in 
Chaldea, where I live, and we like them to keep pets be- 
cause in that way they learn to be kind to everybody. 

SAMUEL— Did you folks come for the big Registration? 
Almost everybody has; and they don't like it. 

GASPAR— Oh no. We are here on a very different er- 
rand. Would you like me to tell you about it? 

BOYS— Oh, yes, please. We like to hear stories. 

GASPAR— Well, sit down here by me and I'll tell you. 
(They sit.) Over in Chaldea our people call us Magi, not 
altogether because we practice Magic, but because we are 
students. We study the stars; and they sometimes tell 
us very strange things. Among others that a wonderful 
new King was to be born somewhere in the far west; and 
we have followed His Star until w^e reached our jour- 
ney's end. 

DAVID— We saw that light and watched you going 
across to the cottage. But that wasn't the place, was it? 

GASPAR — Yes. That was the very place. We went in 
and saw the little King and made Him some presents. 

SAMUEL — Was that what you were carrying in those 
bundles? 

GASPAR— Yes, and we were very glad to find Him, for 
we have been journeying a long, long time. 

DAVID— How long? A whole week? 

GASPAR— Oh, we have been on our way for more than 
two years! 

BOYS— (Astonished.) Two Years! All just to see a baby? 

GASPAR — Yes, but you see some babies are very re- 
markable. Don't you think they must be? 

SAMUEL — Yes, and I know people say some awful 
strange things about babies; the queerest things you ever 
listened to. Would you like me to tell you what my moth- 
er says about them? 

GASPAR— Yes, I would; very much indeed. 



ACT HI 15 

SAMUEL— (In a low, distinct voice.) Well, my mother 
says that babies, all the time they're waiting to be born, 
can see everything there is up in heaven; and when it's 
time for their birthday an Angel comes down and sweeps 
his wing across the baby's mouth and that wakes him up 
in this world, and when he's born he don't see heaven 
any more, only things in this world. 

GASPAR— It would be fine if they could tell us what 
they saw up there, wouldn't it? 

DAVID— Yes, but they can't. They've forgotten it all. 

GASPAR— Oh, no. I don't think they could ever real- 
ly forget it. But, you see, they haven't any heaven words 
with which to tell about it. It's all there all the time. 
Almost everybody thinks he can remember some of it, 
now and then; but he can't tell it. 

SAMUEI^-Maybe they just dream it. I dream lots of 
times. The other night I dreamed I was— 

GASPAR— (Interrupting.) But now listen, boys. I 
want to ask you a very serious question. What do you 
suppose would happen if that Birthday Angel got think- 
ing about something else, and was careless, and just 
about half forgot what he was doing, and didn't shut 
off all the lovely things, and didn't more than about 
half wake up the baby in this world? 

SAMUEL— (Very soberly.) Well, I declare! I never 
thought of that. 

GASPAR— Now, boys, that sometimes happens. And 
when it does don't you suppose that, as the baby grew 
up, he would seem to be about half dreaming all the 
time and seeing queer things he couldn't tell about? We 
have boys like that over where I live, and I'm pretty 
sure you have them here too. Sometimes they go about 
like strangers, or lost people, and seem to care very lit- 
tle for anything around them. Thoughtless children 
sometimes make fun of them and treat them very shab- 
bily. (Philip calls.) Listen! Is that some one calling 
you? 

(All listen, Philip calls in a plaintive style.) 

PHILIP— Oh boys, where are you? Where are you? 



16 THE PET DOVE 

SAMUEL— (Impatiently.) Oh there's that plaguey 
Philip again. He just follows us everywhere. He's no 
good. He can't play anything and he's awful queer. Peo- 
ple say that somebody with the evil eye must have looked 
at him when he was a baby. 

(Philip appears, in pitiful guise.) 

DAYID— (Sharply.) Now you just go home Philip. We 
don't want you following us around everywhere. This is 
private. 

(Philip half turns away; frightened. Uncertain what 
to do.) 

SAMUEL— He's always trying to say something, and he 
keeps standing around looking that queer way. It just 
makes me tired. He spoils everything. 

GASPAR — But maybe Philip has come to see me. Poor 
boy! Oh, I wonder, now! Maybe Philip's Birthday Angel 
was very careless when he was born. Maybe that is why he 
is always thinking he sees things. I wonder if that might 
not be just his trouble? In Chaldea we sometimes call 
that sort of people Seers. I could tell you a great many 
interesting things about them. 

SAMITEL— You can't get them to tell you What they 
saw, if they haven't any heaven words, can you? 

GASPAR— No, but sometimes we can find out in other 
ways. Now let me tell you something, boys. 

Last evening I found Philip sitting here at my tent door, 
waiting for some kind girls to take him home, and, after 
we had gotten a little acquainted, I took him over to 
visit the baby King yonder in the cottage. And as we 
came out a very curious thing happened. 

Philip stood perfectly still, as though he were looking 
away down a long, long road. And as I watched him I 
saw a soft, gentle smile come over his face and he lifted 
his hand, slowly, as though he saw something very, very 
beautiful, away down in the far off years to come. I 
didn't ask him what it was. Maybe he couldn't have told 
me if I had. 

But I think I can find out, even if he has no words with 
which to tell about it. I feel pretty sure I can arrange it 
so that you and David can see what he saw. 

Would you like me to do that for you? 



ACT III 17 

SAMUEL — Oh, yes. Do. I wonder if it was anything 
about that baby? We're awfully curious about Him. 
Everybody is. 

DAA^ID— (Seriously.) Maybe that Angel was real care- 
less when Philip was born; and maybe he saw something 
away down there that looked like heaven to him. Oh, I'm 
sorry we've been so cross and mean to him. Do, please 
ask him what he saw that time. I've always wanted to 
know about heaven. My mother talks a lot about it, but 
I don't think she really knows anything more than what 
our Rabbi tells her. 

GASPAR— Well, I'm v/illing to do what I can for you, 
but, of course, boys, you understand that the heaven 
things Philip might see now could only be what we 
would call heaven-on-earth things; for he couldn't tell 
about any others and we couldn't understand him if he 
did. But they might be pretty good for all that; don't 
you think so? Even if the two worlds did get a little 
mixed. 

Come here, Philip, my little friend. 

PHILIP— Yes, I'm coming. But I'm afraid those boys 
there won't like it very much,— maybe. 

GASPAR— Oh yes, I think they will. Come, sit down 
here with the boys and me. 

(Philip comes. The boys make room for him pleas- 
antly.) 

GASPAR— Now% boys, I want to try a little experiment. 
Philip, I want you to sit in the middle and look straight 
before you and think of what you saw when you came out 
of the cottage where we were last night. 

Samuel, you sit on his right hand and David here on 
his left. Now each of you take one of Philip's hands and 
lean up against him. There; that's right. Now sit very 
still, while you each eat one of these little honey-cakes. 

It won't be long until you go to sleep. Then you will 
each have a dream and in your dream you will see just 
what Philip is thinking of. Now sit very quietly. We 
are all ready. 

(Gaspar slowly rises, gives Samuel and David each a lit- 
tle cake, then takes his place behind the group. Philip 
fixes his eyes on the distant vision. Samuel and David 
finish their cakes, then fall asleep and soon it grows 
entirely dark around them. 



18 THE PET DOVE 

While they continue motionless a concealed quartet of 
ladies' voices sing an angels' song; at first as if from 
far away; slowly increasing. Light comes on slowly.) 



ANGELS' SONG 

Wake, Oh wake, the shadows flee away; 
Sleep no more, for Lo, the day is breaking. 

Mists of doubt and sorrow, wan and gray, 
Vanish in the smile of kindness growing. 

Angels come to bless the happy morning 
Come to clear the dawn of sadness; Oh, 

Wake, the rosy sky with love is glowing. 
Stars are melting in the dawning gladness. 

(At the words "Angels come" a group of three angels, 
in fllmy white, silvery robes, noiselessly glide in out of 
the darkness and stand behind the boys, like angels in 
a dream, looking down smilingly upon the group, with 
hands extended, as if in blessing; these are Zillah, Han- 
nah and Naamah, in dim light only.) 

ZILLAH — (Very softly and slowly; as a voice in a 
dream.) The Angel which redeemed them from all evil 
bless the lads!. 

(Phillip extends his hand and pleads, as one in a 
dream.) 



PHILIP — Oh that these boys were as my little brothers! 

HANNAH— (Very softly). Listen, my sisters! Someone 
has given him a drink of the "wine of the best beloved," 
and the little one (pointing to Ph.) is talking in his 
sleep. He has fallen into a trance with his eyes open. 
He is sitting in the mingled twilight of two v/orlds and 
as yet it is neither clear nor dark around him. 

NAAMAH— Are not angels Ministering Spirits sent forth 
to minister unto such as these? Let us wake them 
gently, here in the Land of Dreams, while we wave above 
them our banner of love. 



J.R. 



hJu-us'S] 



ACT III 19 

Angels' Song (a capella) 

(A quartet of Ladies' Voices) 

Dohnanyi arr. by J. R. 

Jz" iKt vnsr only L'ml and 4tli \crs<-s 



1. Wake, Oh wake, the shadows 



3t 



m:," 4 V J ^ 



i 



flee a -way! 



Sleep no more, for lo, the 



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20 THE PET DOVE 

ZILLAH— (Touching S. and D., the others waving their 
hands.) Wake, little sleepers. Dream no more of a far 
off land of loving-kindness. Near at hand the Day of 
Love is breaking. The shadows of chill loneliness are 
ready to flee away. 

(D. and S. slowly stir themselves; rub their eyes and 
look around them, sleepily. Hannah comes near and 
lays her hand on Philip's shoulder.) 

HANNAH— Wake, little lad, and as one whom his moth- 
er comforteth, so will we comfort thee. {Philip stirs a 
little.) 



NAAMAH— (Laying a hand upon S. and D., as they 
remain silent.) Lo, God hath sent His Messengers that 
ye may know how good and how pleasant a thing it is 
for brethren to dwell together in unity. The heart that 
is alone knoweth only its own bitterness; and for this 
cause two are ever better than one and the three-fold 
cord of love with which we bind is never quickly broken. 

ZILLAH — Love is better than the wings of the morn- 
ing. A friend loveth at all times; and even little brothers 
are born to help in the hour of adversity. 

^Beulah, in angel's garb, enters, daintily, carrying a 
platter of wafers, and dropping flowers as she comes.) 

HANNAH — What tidings, little sister, from the Land 
of Kindly Hearts and Loving Thoughts? 
(Beulah comes to center of group and speaks slowly.) 

BEULAH — Once, long ago, in time of loneliness and 

trouble, man did eat Angels' Food; and now I bring you 

bread from heaven for food on earth, for Love is the 

bread of God. 

(Ofl'ers wafers. Boys take them and eat as if dreaming. 
Beulah retires.) 

ZILLAH— (Waving her hands above the boys.) Lo, 
with this bread eaten in secret let all your sorrows turn 
to joy. 



ACT III 21 

NAAMAH— Long ago I heard a Yoice, wet with tears, 
which said, "Woe unto him that is alone when he falleth." 
So now, lest any evil befall them, come, my sisters, let 
us hind them together with the cords of love. 

(The Angels now gently weave the boys' arms around 
each other; Philip in the middle. Then, all smiling and 
happy, they stand together, making a perfect tableau of 
peace and love. While they thus stand the concealed 
voices begin to sing again 

"Wake, O Wake, the shadows flee away": 

the sound growing more and more soft and indistinct 
as the light slowly vanishes. Then the dream fades 
entirely away, and all grows dark. 

Quickly and noiselessly the girls retire and the boys 
rearrange themselves, precisely as they had been placed 
by old Gaspar; David and Saml. asleep; Philip gazing 
before him.) 




22 THE PET DOVE 

ACT 4. 

(When all is ready the light is quickly turned upon the 
stage. Saml and David rise, rub their eyes and fasten 
them upon Philip. Presently they offer him their hands 
and he rises also, but with a curious smile upon his 
face.) 

SAML— (Drowsily.) Why, wasn't somebody talking to 
us boys? Where are we now? I thought I saw us out- 
side somewhere just a minute ago. Did you call me, 
David? 

DAVID— No. I didn't say anything. You must have 
been dreaming. But I'm sure I saw myself somewhere 
else, and, say, Samuel,— did you notice what was happen- 
ing? (No answer.) 

PHILIP— Was I there, boys? Did you see little Philip 
tagging around anywhere? 

SAMUEL — Oh Philip, please don't say that mean word 
again. Yes, you stood in the middle and my arm was 
around you,— so. 

DAVID— And mine too, Philip. Didn't you feel me 
give you that big hug; like this? (Boys arrange them- 
selves as in dream.) 

PHILIP— I guess it must have been so, for I really 
believe this is just what I saw. But maybe it was only 
a dream. It seems too much like heaven on earth to be 
true. It seemed sort of mixed and there were almost too 
many angels around for this world. Didn't you boys 
see them? 

SAML— I'm not sure about that, but if you saw them 
that's enoug'h. Some boys can see angels where others 
can't, you know. But even if we didn't see angels we 
are going to make the dream come true anyway. What's 
the use of having dreams if they don't come true? 

DAVID — Well, I know it's not a dream now. I'm awake 
all over, for I've pinched myself in three different places 
and it was ME every time. 



ACT IV 23 

SAML— Why, Philip, you are trembling. Are you cold? 
Here, let me put my outside jacket on you. (Puts it 
on him.) 

DAVID— And— Oh, I forgot! I've some cakes and figs 
here in my scrip. Take some, Philip, for I know you must 
be hungry. (DaAdd gets a flg, Philip eats it eagerly.) 

SAMUEL— And look. Why, Philip, your feet are bleed- 
ing, where you've been walking over the rough stones 
Wear my sandals awhile. I love to go barefoot. 

PHILIP— (Overcome.) Oh, boys! It seems too much 
like a vision. It don't seem as if it could be true. I've 
been so louely I couldn't help following you boys around. 
You always looked so happy. But I didn't mean to be 
a bother. I just couldn't help it. I know I don't seem 
like other boys. Maybe if you will help me I'll be more 
like them now, but, Oh, I wish you could see some of 
the beautiful things I have seen! Like this, only far more 
so. 

SAMUEL— Wellj Philip, we have seen and heard 
enough, and it has made us over into new boys. Tell 
you what, David, there's only one thing for us to do now. 
We've got to adopt Philip for our brother. What do you 
say to it? 

DAVID— Why, sure. That would be just like the dream 
come true. For he is really our brother, you know. He's 
just a sort of little wild bird we've caught, you know. 
So that's settled. He belongs to us. 

(A pleasant silence falls upon the trio, then, with a 
smile, and fumbling in his shirt a moment, Saml. says 
softly:) 

SAML— And say, Philip, how would you like to carry 
little Ruth awhile? I love her more than anything in 
the world, but it seems as though I just couldn't be 
selfish any more about anything. She's your sister now, 
too, you know. 

DAVID— (In glee.) Oh that's fine! That's fine! But, 
let me give you some advice, little Brother Philip. Look 
out for yourself, maybe she'll lay a little egg in your 
shirt. 



24 THE PET DOVE 

PHILIP— (Eagerly holding out both hands.) Oh, 
boys! There's something queer about it, but if there's 
one thing in the world I've longed for more than another 
it is to know how it would feel to hold a little, live bird 
in my hands. I've always felt that way, though I 
couldn't explain it to anybody. 

SAMUEI^-All right, Philip, it's your turn now. Here, 
Ruthie, go and make your new brother happy. 

(Saml. gently passes Ruth into Philip's hands. Ph. 
fondles the little bird, then slowly raises her to his cheek 
and closes his eyes; his face beaming with delight. The 
boys watch him in smiling silence. 

Then, just as he moves the soft little body across his 
lips, he stops as if startled by some strange, unexpected, 
thrilling sensation and exclaims, in great agitation:) 

PHILIP— Oh, Boys! Wait a minute. I've just felt 
something! Angels have feathers on their wings, don't 
they? Oh, now I know. IT'S MY BIRTHDAY ANGEL! 
There, I felt him again. I guess he was sorry for me 
and came back to touch my lips again so that I might 
be a real boy, like you. 

Yes— Yes— that's it. That's it! I know it now. Come 
on, boys, let's have a good time together. I'm all right! 
I'm a real boy. MY ! ISN'T IT FINE ! 

(Boys caper and dance around, chasing each other in 
glee. Philip puts dove into the flap of his shirt. Just 
at this moment they hear the shepherdesses calling their 
sheep. 

Passing the tent the girls come toward the boys, pause, 
and then, recognizing them, surround them gleefully.) 

DAVID— Why, where have you girls been all this time? 

MIRIAM— Oh, we've been looking for our sheep. But 
I guess they must all be in, for we can't find them any- 
where. 

BEULAH— (Pointing to the boys.) You needn't worry 
about that, Miriam. Here are three little woolly lambs 
running loose yet. 

PHILIP — Why, I've seen all these girls before. Oh, 
I remember now, it was in my dream. But you were 
Angels then, with big, white wings. 



ACT IV 25 

BEULAH— Well, you saucy boy, aren't we an'gels now 
just the same, all but the wings? 

PHILIP— Oh yes, of course, but, Oh now I see who it is. 
You're the one who fed us with manna, aren't you? I've 
been thinking a lot about you. 

HANNAH — Well, I guess that means he's hungry again. 
It seems to me boys are always hungry. (Turning to 
David.) Here, David, let me see what you have in that 
dirty old scrip. You know in the really-truly world the 
gentlemen always provide the refreshments. 

(David passes over the bag. Hannah examines it; all 
watching her with interest. Many a laugh rises as she 
pulls out all sorts of boys' treasures; a ball, string, sling, 
pebbles, etc., at last producing some cakes.) 

DAVID— <Sure enough, I believe I did once have a lot of 
figs and cakes in there. Let me have that bag, Hannah. 
Sit down, everybody, and I'll see what there is. 

(All sit down. David digs up his store. The girls wipe 
off the dust and then all eat in lively fashion, chattering 
like a flock of birds. Philip slyly steals round and puts 
a bit of fig into the end of Beulah's shepherd pipe. She 
detects him at it, takes the pipe, tries it, then jumps up 
and chases him around.) 

BEULAH— Oh, I'll catch you yet, you little rascal! 

(They caper round the stage. She catches him by the 
ear and leads him back into the circle.) 

NAAMAH— Come now, Beulah; stop your nonsense! 
Be quiet and let us sing a song, while we are sitting 
here on the grass. It seems to me everybody is pretty 
happy just now, and that always makes a good song. 

ALL— Yes, Yes, Yes— Let us have a song! 

ZILLAH— Well, get your instruments ready and we will 
sing the Song of Our Good Shepherd. (They prepare and 
then sing.) 



26 



THE PET DOVE 



Song of the Children sitting on the Grass 

(3 verses) 



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Resl-ing and then re-vi - ving. Hand in hand we wan-der glad - ly 



The Lord is my own Good Shepherd, 

Through green pastures 
And beside the quiet waters leading; 
Resting and then reviving, 

Hand in hand we wander gladly on. 

The shadows may dim our pathway 

Through the valley, 
Yet no evil will we fear, for He will 
Never, Oh never, leave us. 

And His rod and staff our comfort are. 

So surely His tender mercies 

Ever follow, 
And our cup o'erflows with joy and gladness; 
Blessings attend us daily. 

And His Home is ours for evermore. 

PHILIP — Oh, I wish my mother could hear that pretty 
song ! 

MIRIAM— (In a drawling tone.) Why, who'd have 
believed it? The little thing's really got a mother, after 
all! 

DAVID— (Jumping up.) Yes, and I know where she 
lives, too. I'll run and bring her. (Starts away, Tirzah 
appears.) 



ESTHER— Why, there she comes now, I believe! 



ACT IV 27 

(The children grow silent as Tirzah comes forward slow- 
ly, looking toward the group, uncertainly; holding the 
little jacket to her breast.) 

PHILIP— (Jumping up.) Oh Mother, Mother! Here I 
am! Come and listen to our pretty song. 

(Tirzah comes nearer; listens in rapture while they sing 
again; then sits down in the group, her arm around 
Philip. At close of the song Ph. opens his little shirt 
front and takes out the dove.) 

PHILIP — Look, mother! Here's the whole secret. This 
is Samuel's dear, little Pet Dove, and now I'll tell you 
how it all happened. While I was dreaming my favorite 
dream about boys and angels, Samuel and David were 
sitting close beside me, sleeping; and they must have 
dreamed something lovely, for, when we all got awake, 
Samuel let me have his coat and his sandals and then 
he let me take his dove in my hands; and when I put 
her up to my lips it was just like the touch of my Birth- 
day Angel's wing and all of a sudden everything came 
round all right. 

Isn't she a dear little thing? Feel her, mother! Just 
feel how soft and smooth she is! 

(Tirzah takes the dove in her hands, raises it upward, 
closing her eyes and moving her lips as if in prayer; then 
kisses it. The girls all now clamor to take the bird.) 

GIRLS — Oh, let me have her! Let me. Can't I have 
her now? Etc. 

PHILIP — Oh no. Let Samuel have her now. Hei-e 
Samuel. You ought to be a very happy boy. She's a 
real angel now, you see. 

HANNAH— Well, do you hear that! Aren't we girls real 
angels too? It seems to me you boys forget pretty easily. 

TIRZAH — Oh dear children, now you see how girls 
and boys can all be real angels of love and mercy and 
kindness to each other. You are "Ministering Spirits", 
and that means that you are God's Angels, and you 
always will be Angels to me. 



28 THE PET DOVE 

SAMUEL — Oh it wasn't us. It was all the doings of an 
old man down there in that tent; these girls only got 
here in time for the refreshments. 



NAAMAH — No, indeed, for Philip recognized us in his 
dream long before that, didn't you Philip? Only, we 
lost our wings when the boys waked up. Maybe real 
boys are different too. 

DAVID — Well, real boys can be angels sometimes, can't 
they? I'd like to know. 

MIRIAM — Yes, of course they can. But I guess it's 
mostly when they're asleep. 

DAVID— (With a grunt.) Huh! 

PHILIP — Oh Mother, I wish every day could be like 
this one. It's better than Ramoth-Gilead. It seems just 
full of love and good cheer. I wish we could do some- 
thing to make somebody else happy. Oh, wait a min- 
ute. I have a plan. I know two places where a song 
would sound beautiful. 



ALL — Where, where? We'll all go if it isn't too far. 

(Rise.) 



PHILIP — Well, do you see that little cottage door? 
(Points.) Let us steal over there and sing to the little 
baby King. 



NAAMAH— If there's a baby there Zillah knows a little 
lullaby that would be just the thing. Come on. 

(Philip leads the group and, tinkling their little instru- 
ments as they go, they quietly gather before the door 
of the cottage of Mary and Joseph. As they begin to 
sing the door opens and the white skirt of a woman's 
dress appears within the shadow — nothing more. Then 
they sing this lullaby': 



ACT JV 

Lullaby (3 verses) 



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30 THE PET DOVE 



Lullaby 



ZILLAH:— 

A little, dreaming dove may softly coo; 
A small, white cloudlet swim the silent blue; 

One little, tinkling brook, 

Purl in its ferny nook; 
One small, tired lily sip the fragrant dew, 

ALL— While baby sleeps. 

A little leaf may glisten toward the West; 
A small night-birdie vesper in its nest; 

One little, fading star 

May linger down afar; 
One small, dim glow-worm light the world to rest, 

While baby sleeps. 

Time lulls along in quietude supreme. 

Lest lightest step disturb one dainty dream. 

Sleep on, thou little dove, 

Safe in The Father's love, 
Till twilight's gloom may melt in morning's gleam. 

While baby sleeps. 



(As the song ends the door closes, but a little light 
appears at the window, where it remains.) 



PHILIP— (Softly) Now let us go over and sing to our 
good, old friend in the tent. Some angels may not un- 
derstand the Chaldee language, but I rather guess some 
of the Chaldeans will understand what our Bethlehem 
angels have to say. 



(All go decorously across, quietly gather before the 
tent, and sing this song) : 



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The Tent Door Song 

(3 verses) 



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White the sil-ver moon-light. Warm the gold-en sun-light, Bright -ly gleam-ing day by day 



Fragrant are red roses, Lovely are white lilies, 

Blooming- ever fresh and gay. 
White the silver moonlight, Warm the golden sunlight, 

Brightly gleaming day by day. 

Gentle thoughts are roses, Loving words are lilies, 

Blooming free v*^here love remains, 
Fair the smJle of pleasure. Dearer still the treasure 

Of the heart where kindness reigns. 

Lovelier are the lilies. Fairer are the roses. 

Blooming fresh on heav'nly plains. 
Dearer far the moonlight. Brighter far the sunlight. 

In the sweet land where kindness reigns. 
(As the song ends, Beulah slips round, slaps Philip 
on back.) 

BEI^LAH— Tag! You^re IT! 

(Instantly the spirit of play comes over them. They 
have a real game of Tag, one of the oldest of Syrian 
games. Anally retreating from the stage. When all is 
quiet, the flap of the tent is slowly thrown back. Gaspar 
looks all around, then steps out upon the platform. 
Nods again and again as if in complete satisfaction, then 
smiles and says) : 

GASPAR— It is enough. Our quest is ended. A gentle 
star has led us to the King we sought. In the voice of 
His mother we heard the lingering echo of one of the 
songs of Heaven. And now, in the rustle of the wings 
of a little dove, and amid the happy voices of children, 
it sounds again in nearer, and clearer tones, the deepest, 
sweetest heraldry of His Everlasting Kingdom. 

"PEACE ON EARTH, GOOD WILL TOWARD MEN." 

(Then he retires into the tent, the light fades away and 
the play is over.) 



A New Interesting Play 



LIBRPRY OF CONGRES 

III 




017 400 061 P 



A Captive Maiden in Damascus 



By JOHN REA 

Author of "The Pet Dove" 



This little drama should find a place wherever a pure, 
touching and inspiring story is desired. It draws its 
inspiration from the fascinating Biblical story of Naaman, 
the Syrian. The plot is cleverly handled and one's inter- 
est is held during the entire story. It will appeal to 
both young and old and is especially fitted for school, 
church and club entertainments. 

One of the happy lessons of this drama is— the great 
results which sometimes are accomplished by absolute 
faith among even the humblest of creatures, and one of 
the most attractive features is its realistic presentation 
of ancient oriental life so foreign to our occidental 
thought. 

The costumes are those used in Bible times in Damas- 
cus; characters; five male characters and five female char- 
acters, with minor parts for both sexes. The Story: 
It begins as the shadow of an unhappy blight is falling 
upon the devoted household of the warrior, Naaman, 
in Damascus, and ends when the sun comes out again 
and all grows bright at last through the faith of a little 
maid who had been captured by the Damascene soldiery 
and presented as a gift to Naaman's wife. 

PRICE 25 CENTS 

Rev Miles B. Fisher, S. F.; Educational Secretary of the 
Congregational Sunday School Society for the Pacific 
Coast says: "After having read 'A Captive Maiden m 
Damascus,' a number of times, twice to discriminating 
hearers, we all have one opinion of its beauty and usabil- 
ity I am satisfied that the play can be effectively staged 
by many schools and will meet with a welcome. 

Published by 

WHITAKER & RAY-WIGGIN CO. 

San Francisco 



